Can't Hardly Wait

Before we become That Wilco Thing, let's switch gears. Here are tracks from a couple of releases we're looking for to:

RYAN ADAMS - "Everybody Knows" from Easy Tiger, out on June 26


CROWDED HOUSE - "Don't Stop Now" (webrip) from Time On Earth, out on July 10


SPOON - "The Ghost Of You Lingers" from Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, out on July 10

Maybe You Still Love Me, Maybe You Don't

If it isn't clear enough already that Sky Blue Sky is the most polarizing record of Wilco's career, this cinches it for me -- welcome to our first-ever joint post. More than any other band, Wilco brought us together as friends and cemented our music-geek bond. We've seen the band together numerous times over the last few years, in Atlanta and on roads trips across the South, and it's fair to say that we're both tithing members of the Church of Tweedy. But we've had very different reactions to Sky Blue Sky (as have a lot of folks -- witness Pitchfork vs. PopMatters). So welcome to our own little version of Point/Counterpoint:

Frank's Take:

Unlike the three records that preceded it, Sky Blue Sky is not a grand artistic statement. It has no art-rock pretense or 60s pop pastiche, no bursts of feedback or radio interference, no ominous foreshadowing of disastrous events, no "American aquarium drinkers" who "assassin down the avenue." In a recent Billboard interview, Jeff Tweedy said that when the band set out to record its latest batch of songs, he asked himself, what record do I want to hear right now? And the answer was, "I want to hear somebody just sing me some songs."

That's precisely what Tweedy and Co. do on Sky Blue Sky. And as much as this delights the legions of fans who have aways preferred the early "alt country" Wilco of A.M. and Being There, it frustrates the hell out of newer fans who expect every Wilco record to top the last in sonic "experimentation." As Tweedy said in another recent interview, when Yankee Hotel Foxtrot came out, everyone asked him, "Where's the pedal steel?" Now the pedal steel is back, and everyone's asking, "Where's the noise?"

Well there's plenty of gorgeous noise on Sky Blue Sky. No, it's not their most complex or adventurous work -- and okay, it might even have one bum track -- but with that single (and arguable) exception, the record is never less than hugely enjoyable, and when it's good, it's as fine as just about anything this exceptional band -- and this one-in-a-million songwriter -- have ever produced.

The record is bookended, both musically and thematically, by two lovely Tweedy ballads, "Either Way" (which we previewed back in April) and "On & On & On." The former floats in on Tweedy's fingerpicked acoustic and a bed of shimmering Hammond organ, then peaks with swelling strings and a beautifully understated solo by new, virtuoso lead guitarist Nels Cline. But on the second track, "You Are My Face" (currently my favorite on the record), it's Tweedy who supplies the guitar pyrotechnics with a gutting, Neil Young-inspired solo that transforms this gentle folk song, with its airy, double-tracked vocal, into an adrenaline-fuelled plea. (It's at moments like this when I just can't comprehend the complaint that Sky Blue Sky "doesn't rock.") Elsewhere, "Impossible Germany," a live favorite since last summer, peaks with a three-guitar duel in which Tweedy and Cline are joined by multi-instrumentalist Pat Sansone. And anyone waiting for Cline to step out and really show his stuff has to be wowed by the blistering solo he turns in on the soulful "Side With The Seeds." "Walken" is not the most profound piece of music Jeff Tweedy has ever created, but the charms of its Southern fried, Little Feat vibe are awfully tough to resist. And the delicate "Please Be Patient With Me" is both unspeakably pretty and the most intensely personal tune Tweedy has ever released -- almost like eavesdropping on one of the conversations he and his wife must have had during his struggle with addiction a few years ago.

In short, and despite the fact that it's a relatively subdued ride from start to finish, I really love this record, and think it has given us at least eight new songs that deserve their place in the Wilco canon. (Of course, the very fact that I speak in terms of a "canon" when I talk about Jeff Tweedy and Wilco reveals my admitted bias.)

At the same time, the latest Wilco record is precisely that -- just the latest record by Wilco, until they make another one. Jeff Tweedy is not even 40 years old. Like Dylan or Neil Young, he's a career artist, and a love of his music is a relationship for life. (Maybe Sky Blue Sky is his Nashville Skyline, or his Harvest.) And I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that he's given me more music to enjoy, and to be thrilled and fascinated and moved by, than any other artist over the past decade. So, as another blogger so aptly put it earlier this week, if he wants to kick back and be mellow right now, I'll happily kick back with him.


Rich's Take:

"Be careful what you wish for," should probably be the theme of my post. Don't get me wrong. Of course I loved Yankee Hotel Foxtrot every single bit as much as any other self-respecting Wilco disciple, but by the time A Ghost Is Born revealed how the band had -- "ruined" is too strong a word -- changed "Spiders (Kidsmoke)" from the alt-country version they'd been playing live into a celebration of Krautrock, and inexplicably added about 12 minutes of machine hum to the end of "Less Than You Think," I was calling for Wilco to end the weird-for-weird's-sake and just play the damn songs. The beautiful, supremely melodic songs of one this generation's most gifted songwriters.

I have to admit that Sky Blue Sky has me apologetically asking if I could change my order. Now, Wilco has never really been overwhelmingly challenging, but there has long been something of an edge present in the band's music, an uneasy undercurrent that manifested itself in limited Sonic Youth outbursts of noise and disjointed, impressionistic lyrics that are often deeply evocative for reasons superficially unexplainable. Most reviewers will probably highlight that Sky Blue Sky represents a kind of maturity in the evolution of Wilco, but it's a maturity that comes at the expense of that "edge."

This is a most curious development. When Wilco signed the great avant garde guitarist Nels Cline to the lineup, I was excited about the sonic possibilities that this presented. And having seen him shred on Wilco standards several times in the last few years (and hearing him on the live album Kicking Television), I felt the Nels Cline version of the band portended a new dimension of artistic creativity. But Nels' guitar work on this record is, for the most part, decidedly subtle and disappointingly understated. It would say that it's the equivalent of signing A-Rod to play third base, only that metaphor doesn't hold up because A-Rod still gets to hit every once in a while, and these particular songs don't offer much for Mr. Cline to swing at.

I certainly don't mean to pan the record. Some of the songs on Sky Blue Sky are probably as good as anything Wilco has ever done. "Impossible Germany" would've been at home on either of the last couple of records, and "What Light," a new classic in the Wilco songbook, is probably that song that I intended to order up in my prior exhortation. It's still a Wilco record, which makes it way better than the vast majority of anything else that's out there.

Nevertheless, this record probably also has some of Wilco's least effective material. "Shake It Off," a herky-jerky jam that never really goes anywhere but does go on for far longer than is necessary, is probably my least favorite song that the band has ever recorded. A close second is Tweedy's hymn to sad domesticity, "Hate It Here," which dresses up in ill-fitting 70s soul that sounds either like something off of an unheard comeback attempt by Peter Frampton or an early Don Henley B-side. For the first time in my life, I'm routinely skipping over Wilco songs.

That 70s soul/soft-rock thing permeates the record. Songs like "Leave Me Like You Found Me" and "Walken" aren't bad, they're just not particularly interesting. And unlike previous Wilco records -- which routinely had me studying the lyrics, trying to decipher what Jeff was getting at, or simply admiring their inherent poetry -- here, the straightforward, earnest lyrics on Sky Blue Sky have me drifting off, thinking about that project at work or whether I'll have time to get my oil changed this weekend. I begin to recall that scene in I Am Trying To Break Your Heart when Jay Bennett sort of condescendingly explains that he needs to junk up Tweedy's songs with a bunch of noise and found sounds in order to keep them from sounding "like little folk songs," or words to that effect. I still don't believe that's entirely true, but a few of these may have benefited from some measure of sonic tinkering.

But then again, what do I know? Jeff Tweedy has made a career of giving his fans musical food that their palates aren't ready for, so it may just be that this record needs further digestion so that it continues to grow and insert itself in ways that aren't yet understood. If so, I'll be the first to circle back and admit that I was short-sighted. But at this point, and at the risk of damning it with faint praise, Sky Blue Sky can be summed up by referencing a line in the title track: "its good enough for now." It may not be my favorite Wilco outing so far, but it's still Wilco, and that's good enough for me.

MP3: Wilco - "You Are My Face" from Sky Blue Sky

Radio Cure

Sky Blue Sky is out today, and we continue our Wilco release week coverage with the band's appearance on A Prairie Home Companion last Saturday night, from the State Theatre in Minneapolis. (We'll review SBS later in the week.)

01 Sky Blue Sky
02 Garrison Keillor chats with Tweedy > Muzzle of Bees > chat continued > What Light
03 When The Roses Bloom Again
04 Hesitating Beauty

(Webrip by DawgSong at the Via Chicago message board -- his turned out a bit better than mine.)

UPDATE: Greg Kot, author of definitive Wilco bio Learning How To Die, interviews the band in today's issue of PopMatters.

Classic Bootleg Series Vol. 10: Wilco - The Yankee Hotel Foxtrot Demos

With Wilco's new record, Sky Blue Sky, set for release this week, selecting the next entry in our series was (for once) a no-brainer.

The sessions that produced Wilco's pivotal Yankee Hotel Foxtrot album -- as infamously documented in Sam Jones' 2002 film, I Am Trying To Break Your Heart -- were a perfect storm of dysfunction. After delivering the brilliant dose of infectious, sun-dappled pop that was 1999's Summerteeth, the band embarked in a new and far more challenging direction that involved not just the writing of great songs, but an almost maniacal process of tearing down and reconstructing each one, sometimes over and over again, until -- after literally hundreds of hours in the studio -- some elusive, alchemic result finally revealed itself. Even a band in the best of mental health would have been stretched to its limits by this routine. And at the time, Wilco was anything but. Jay Bennett, a supremely gifted musician and songwriter with an equally pompous and irritating personality, had tired of playing second fiddle to Jeff Tweedy and was making a calculated power grab, alienating not just Tweedy but the rest of his bandmates in the process. Tweedy, meanwhile, already pathologically averse to confrontation, was at his absolute personal low point, firmly in the clutches of an anxiety disorder, chronic migraine headaches and an attendent addiction to prescription painkillers that had him struggling to maintain some semblance of control, and not just over his band.

What's most astonishing about the YHF sessions, then, is not that they were so fractious, but that they produced, in the midst of all that simmering acrimony and discomfort, such a wealth of gorgeous and stunningly inspired music. There is evidence enough of that in the record itself, which I consider to be Wilco's masterpiece and among the finest releases of the last 20 years. But what casual fans may not know is that the tracks that ended up on YHF represent only a small fraction of what the band recorded in this period.

The so-called "Yankee Hotel Foxtrot Demos" -- actually consisting of both true demos and completed-but-discarded studio tracks from the YHF sessions -- have been called "the great lost Wilco album." In fact, it sometimes seems that these recordings have inspired as much fawning praise from critics as the officially-released album.

The tracks fall into two basic categories. First, there are early, sometimes radically different versions of songs that ended up on the record. Indeed, fans who aren't wild about the sonic experimentation on YHF can find more straightforward renditions of some of the songs here.

Second, and even more stunning, are the songs that didn't make the cut at all, a number of them as good as just about anything in the Wilco catalog. It's not hard to guess why pop gems like "Magazine Called Sunset," "Alone" and "Nothing Up My Sleeve," all of which would have been right at home on Summerteeth, didn't fit in with what Tweedy was trying to accomplish with YHF, but that doesn't make them any less wonderful. "Not For The Season" is terrific, too, and was a longtime staple of Wilco's live set (they still bust it out on occasion), but it didn't make the grade either, perhaps because Tweedy had other plans for the song. (It ended up, sapped of most of its passion, as "Laminated Cat" on the first album by Tweedy's Loose Fur side project.) And "Will Not Let You Down" sounds like Wilco brought Exile-era Keith Richards in as a ringer one day -- it's rollicking fun, even if it had no natural place on YHF.

Yet, the omission of two of these songs from YHF defies explanation. "Cars Can't Escape" is one of Wilco's loveliest ballads, and although the band gave it away online to anyone who purchased YHF, and even toss it into their live setlist every now and then, they have never treated it as much more than a throw-away. I don't care -- it's among my all-time favorite Wilco songs.

But if these recordings do comprise some sort of alternate-universe classic, then "Venus Stop The Train" is THE great lost Wilco track. Achingly beautiful and hauntingly produced, it would have been an absolute highlight of Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, and consistent in every way with the sound and ethos of that classic record. Instead, it has never been released, or performed live. Not even once. Until that far-off day when a career-spanning Wilco box set sees the light of day, this is the only way you'll ever hear this positively gorgeous song.

WILCO - THE YANKEE HOTEL FOXTROT DEMOS

Artwork (low resolution -- if you have better, please send it along):
Front
Back

01 I Am Trying To Break Your Heart
02 Ashes of American Flags
03 I'm The Man Who Loves You
04 Magazine Called Sunset
05 Reservations
06 Kamera
07 Not For The Season
08 Alone
09 Nothing Up My Sleeve
10 Venus Stop The Train
11 Car's Can't Escape (piano demo)
12 Poor Places
13 Will Not Let You Down
14 Heavy Metal Drummer
15 Instrumental No. 1
16 Instrumental No. 2
17 Instrumental No. 2 (take 2)
18 Kamera (alternate version)
19 Magazine Called Sunset (alternate version)
20 Alone (alternate version)
21 Not For The Season (alternate version)

And a bonus track, because the collection is simply incomplete without it:

22 Cars Can't Escape (finished studio version)

Finally, this isn't even all of it. Other tracks recorded during the YHF sessions but never released -- some of which circulate on a separate bootleg called The YHF Engineer Demos -- include "Corduroy Cutoff Girl" ("Instrumental No. 2" above, with lyrics added), an early version of "Handshake Drugs" (later re-worked and released on the follow-up to YHF, 2004's A Ghost Is Born), "The Good Part" (which returned to the Wilco setlist in 2006 and briefly looked like it was headed for Sky Blue Sky) and still other, entirely different versions of many of the YHF tracks. Perhaps a worthwhile subject for another day.

Odds and Sods

Scottish band Mogwai provide the soundtrack for Zidane, a documentary portrait of the iconic French footballer (and head-butter) by Scottish film director Douglas Gordon, and we have a track to share. I am praying that this film gets a DVD release, at least, in the U.S. Vive Zizou!

MP3: Mogwai - "The Black Spider" from Zidane original soundtrack



The official site for The Future Is Unwritten, Julien Temple's documentary on TTT patron saint Joe Strummer, is up and running. The film was huge at Sundance this year, and opens in select cities on May 18. If the trailer is any indication, this will be a favorite music flick of all time.






In a move sure to draw a snide comment from Rich about their forthcoming record, Wilco will play A Prairie Home Companion this Saturday evening. U.S. readers can tune in to their local public radio stations between 6:00 and 8:00 PM Eastern to catch the performance, live from legendary Lake Wobegon. Sky Blue Sky is out next Tuesday, May 15, and if you purchase your copy at an independent record store you'll get some bonus goodies, as Jeff Tweedy will tell you himself.


The weekly Take-Away Shows at La Blogoteque feature videos of some of the finest indie artists around (Arcade Fire, Cold War Kids, Andrew Bird, The National, The Shins, Guillemots, My Brightest Diamond, Grizzly Bear) performing, busker-style, in public spaces in and around France. Bonus footage of six bands is also up this week to mark the first anniversary of the project.


And our Classic Bootleg Series will continue by no later than the end of this weekend. Promise. The next one's a must-have, kids, so don't miss it.

Get It On!!!

Nick Cave's new side project (with current Bad Seeds members), Grinderman, is a testosterone-infused punk rock/blues mash-up extraordinaire. An early press release accurately described Grinderman as "fouled-mouthed, noisy, hairy, and damned-well old enough to know better." The band might also be described as Id Gone Wild. And, as Martha Stewart says, "that's a good thing."

Grinderman's self-titled debut album opens with two white-hot shots to the gut: "Get It On," and "No Pussy Blues." The former, which is linked below, is a raw, in-your-face exposition in rock and roll decadence, which, among other things, extols the virtues of "those who gave their lives so that we could Get It On." The latter, which is about exactly what you think it's about ("I petted her revolting little chihuahua and still she just didn't want to . . ."), and screams it from the rooftops in a hilarious, blue-balled celebration as straightforward and visceral as anything in blues or rock music.

Songs like "Depth Charge Ethel" and "Honey Bee (Let's Fly To Mars)" keep up the fat bass lines and dirty grind, but there are a few songs that vary the pace considerably, such as the Tom Waits-ish "Electric Alice," the artsy spoken-word "Go Tell The Women," and the title track, on which Nick channels Jim Morrison over a post-modern dirge. The record rounds out with the teeming menace of "When My Love Comes Down" and "Love Bomb," the latter of which sounds like what Talking Heads might have sounded like had they been leather-clad bikers instead geeky art school students. Grinderman is a real winner for that dirty rocker that's lurking deep down inside of you.

MP3: Grinderman - "Get It On" from Grinderman
MP3: Grinderman - "Love Bomb" from Grinderman

Also, check out the video for "No Pussy Blues" (parental discretion advised)



And as an added bonus, for a little historical perspective:

MP3: John Lee Hooker - "Grinder Man" from Everybody's Blues

Time Of No Reply

I never thought I'd be announcing the arrival of "new" recordings by revered British singer-songwriter Nick Drake, but that's just what will happen on June 19, when the Drake estate will release Family Tree, a collection of acoustic demos, covers and other unreleased recordings that Drake made at home in the late 60s, before he secured a record deal and released his debut album, Five Leaves Left, in 1969.

Before his death from an overdose of antidepressants in 1974, Drake released three records of fragile, sublimely beautiful acoustic pop, but he died -- at age 26 -- in almost complete obscurity. Although his music was adored and his tremendous talent (as a songwriter, guitarist and singer) was appreciated by a small cult of hardcore fans, Drake's music didn't obtain any measure of mainstream awareness until the title track of his final album, Pink Moon, was used to wonderful effect in a Volkswagen commercial in 2000. That widespread exposure, coupled with the release of the outstanding Fruit Tree box set (comprised of his three studio albums, plus an extra disc of unreleased outtakes and rarities) cemented Drake's reputation, almost 30 years after his death, and revealed the tremendous influence that he has on singer-songwriters to this day. He was, more or less, the Sufjan Stevens of his day.

Many of Drake's early home recordings have been widely bootlegged for years, most famously on a release called Tanworth in Arden that is a staple of any good boot collection. But the sound quality on Family Tree promises to be noticeably better than the hissy, high-generation tapes that collectors have long passed around. This new release will also feature some uncirculated material -- namely, collaborations between Drake and members of his family -- that very few people have ever heard before.

Thanks to the good folks at The MuseBox, we've received a preview track from Family Tree, an early (and discarded) Drake original called "They're Leaving Me Behind". While it's not in a league with his classic studio material, it's an interesting peek at a brilliant artist still struggling to find his voice, and we're pleased to be able to share it.

MP3: Nick Drake - "They're Leaving Me Behind" from Family Tree

Living For The Future

Cover albums, it seems to me, are often the refuge of artists with nothing left to say, or of those who are playing out a contractual string. There are some notable exceptions to that, but when I read that Patti Smith's first post-Hall of Fame record, Twelve, is a covers album, I didn't begrudge her that victory lap, but I did lower my expectations a little.

Twelve, while perhaps not a revelation, is still a very pleasant surprise. On it, Professor Smith gives a fairly straightforward tutorial on rock history, covering an eclectic range of artists from the 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s. The songs are well-chosen and well-played. Both the production and her voice are warm and intimate, and the effect is killer; evocative of a late night private show to which you are incredibly lucky to have scored tickets.

Even as a punk-poet, Patti has never been a stranger to classic rock covers -- like Van Morrison's "Gloria" and Hendrix's "Hey Joe" -- and the classic crowd is represented here as well, with songs from Dylan ("Changing Of The Guard"), the Doors ("Soul Kitchen"), Jefferson Airplane (a spooky "White Rabbit"), and Neil Young (a lovely version of "Helpless"). Other older songs include a faithful cover of the Stones' "Gimme Shelter," and a somewhat surprising version of the Allman Brother's southern rock classic, "Midnight Rider." And even though "Within You Without You" is probably my least favorite Beatles song (which still places it way above most things), here it is set to a swinging 6/8 cadence that is most appealing.

The album also boasts some unexpected choices of more recent vintage, including a warm, stripped-down version of Tears for Fears' "Everybody Wants To Rule The World," and Paul Simon's 80s world-beat hit, "Boy In The Bubble." Patti and her band take the most liberties with their gorgeous version of Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit," the record's centerpiece. It's a virtual photographic negative of the original, played acoustically as a folk song, prominently featuring banjo and mandolin. I know, it sounds like some Hayseed Dixie parody, but in this bands' hands it's pure poetry (even inspiring Patti to interject some of her own) and illustrates the genius of Kurt Cobain, even without the distorted guitars and punk rock nihilism.

The record is rounded out with a smooth version of Stevie Wonder's "Pastime Paradise," which doesn't sound like typical Patti Smith territory, but serves as the perfect closer. I can't say that I've lived with it long enough to discern any overt theme in her selections, but the timelessness of all these songs render each of them, in its own way, immediately applicable to the present day, and beyond. And so too is Patti Smith.

MP3: Patti Smith - "Everybody Wants To Rule The World" from Twelve (Tears For Fears cover)
MP3: Patti Smith - "Smells Like Teen Spirit" from Twelve (Nirvana cover)

Chelsea Dagger

Scottish trio The Fratellis have been dismissed by some as major label Arctic Monkeys clones or, worse yet, just another soon-to-be-forgotten act that was briefly lucky enough to have a catchy track ("Flathead") featured in an iPod ad. But after living with their debut, Costello Music, for a few weeks now, I have to give them more credit than that. Sure, they seem to have nicked the early Arctics template a bit -- tight, distinctly British pub rock brimming with killer riffs and big, sing-along choruses -- but it's not like that's a bad thing, and on more than a few tracks, they distinguish themselves nicely, with skillful songwriting and some great musicianship. "Henrietta" has enough hooks for three songs, single "Chelsea Dagger" is a rollicking good time, with a Gary Glitter drumbeat, T-Rex guitars and a chorus made to be chanted in unison by drunk lads in bars, and "Creepin' Up The Back Stairs" alternates between modern thrash and harmonies that would have been at home at the Cavern Club in early 60s Liverpool. Best of all, though, is the one true ballad, "Whistle For The Choir," which will surely have a place on any "favorite songs of the year" mix I may be putting together in 7 months or so.

MP3: The Fratellis - "Whistle For The Choir" from Costello Music

Every Time You Close Your Eyes

The Arcade Fire were in town last night, and of course we were front and center -- we're fans, if you haven't noticed -- for what turned out to be a revelatory set. Even with the ludicrously high expectations I had after seeing them in 2005, I was blown away. I'm simply not articulate enough to convey the heart, passion and effort that they seem to pour into every song, putting not just their voices but also (in the case of Will Butler, who at one point tightrope-walked the ramped balcony support at the Atlanta Civic Center until he was perched a good 30 feet above the crowd, teetering precariously and maniacally pounding on a drum the entire time) their bodies on the line to ensure that the performance is nothing less than epic, and no one leaves disappointed. After seeing this show, one thing is certain in my mind: In addition to releasing two of the finest records of the past decade, the Arcade Fire join the likes of Radiohead, Wilco and My Morning Jacket as among the very best live bands on the planet.

Odds and Sods

GoldenFiddle has the first look at Cate Blanchett as Bob Dylan (the circa '66 edition) in the forthcoming Todd Haynes biopic, I'm Not There (which, from the look of things, will be either terrific or a complete disaster).






The Traneumentary is a weekly podcast celebrating the unparalleled artistry and influence of John Coltrane, featuring interviews with such friends and admirers as McCoy Tyner, Terence Blanchard, Jimmy Cobb and (coming up) Sonny Rollins. It's 15 weeks in, with only 3 more to go, but all of the episodes are archived at the site and well worth a listen. ('Trane fans, stay tuned to our Classic Bootleg Series. I'm just sayin'.)


The reunited Crowded House will release a new record, Time On Earth, on July 2. The record was produced by Ethan Johns (Ryan Adams, Kings Of Leon, Ray LaMontagne) and Steve Lillywhite (U2, XTC, Morrissey). Guitar god Johnny Marr features on two tracks, including lead-off single "Don’t Stop Now," which will be available on iTunes on June 25. The record will also include Crowded House's take on the gorgeous "Silent House," which CH main man Neil Finn co-wrote with the Dixie Chicks. The Chicks' version of that song was among the highlights of their splendid Taking The Long Way album last year. Here, see for yourself:

MP3: Dixie Chicks - "Silent House" from Taking The Long Way


And music critic Sasha Frere-Jones, who's been on a tear lately, profiles indie it-girl Feist in The New Yorker, calling her new record, The Reminder (out next week), "radiant" and "luminous".

I'm A Punkrocker, Yes I Am

Unlike jazz and the blues, rock tends to be relatively unfriendly to its aging statesmen. Depending on whom you ask, the Rolling Stones are both examples of and exceptions to this rule. For my generation though, we are only now getting to the point at which the punk rockers are getting old. We've already lost many of them, but a few are notably carrying on.

For me, the most vivid example of this is the 60-year old Iggy Pop, the Godfather of Punk, who, let's face it, has written some of the most blistering songs in the rock pantheon. In recent years, however, Iggy's output has been somewhat hit or miss but still occasionally worth checking out. I was one of those (maybe one of the few) who was more excited than nervous about the prospect of a reunited Stooges putting out new material, in spite of the overly slick and underwhelming new release from the New Your Dolls last year.

Unlike the Dolls, The Stooges latest release, The Weirdness, certainly doesn't suffer from the sheen of overproduction. The sound remains relatively raw, if not quite as powerful as you might remember. Worst of all (as you've probably read ad nauseum), the lyrics are surprisingly sophomoric, maybe even for The Stooges. I read where Iggy chided new bass player Mike Watt for making a bass line too interesting, because he wanted the new record to sound big and dumb. Simply put, Iggy managed to achieve this goal.

Contrary to the uniformly negative reviews that I've seen (and even my initial reaction), The Weirdness actually isn't a complete turn-off. In spite of the fact that my first listen was probably comparable to that feeling Ohio State fans get when their teams plays Florida in a national championship game (pick a sport) -- i.e., "this isn't going how I'd hoped it would" -- there's still stuff here you can use, like the first single, "My Idea Of Fun," and the title track, the latter of which kind of makes you wish Iggy and Bowie would try to get together again. Overall though, The Weirdness is a bit of a disappointment, but certainly not destructive to the band's "legacy," as most critics would have you believe. It is dumb though. That much is true.

Check out new and old Stooges and tell us if time is kind to the punk rockers. I've also thrown in Iggy's guest spot on Teddybears' new classic "Punkrocker." Oh, and be sure and check out Wolfgang's Concert Vault for a classic 1977 Iggy Pop concert at the Rainbow Theatre, now available for download! Yes!

MP3: The Stooges - "My Idea Of Fun" from The Weirdness
MP3: Iggy & The Stooges - "No Fun" from The Stooges
MP3: Teddybears (feat. Iggy Pop) - "Punkrocker" from The Soft Machine

That would have been a good place to end this post, but to continue the original theme for just a moment, it's worth mentioning briefly another of punk's elder statesmen, Mr. Mark E Smith, of The Fall, who have just released what must be their 312th record Reformation Post T.L.C. (actually, the 26th). I have to admit, I somehow always have a place for the unintelligible, scotch-soaked ramblings of the enigmatic Mr. Smith, and this new Americanized incarnation of the Fall (his previous band apparently abandoned him in the middle of the last tour) suits him well. Nothing on Reformation hits quite so immediately as did songs like "Pacifying Joint" from 2005's Fall Heads Roll, but The Fall are always a mess, bless their hearts, and fans of the band still have plenty of chaos to enjoy on this outing.

MP3: The Fall - "Over! Over!" from Reformation Post T.L.C.
MP3: The Fall - "Fall Sound" from Reformation Post T.L.C.
MP3: The Fall - "Pacifying Joint" from Fall Heads Roll

When They Kick At Your Front Door, How You Gonna Come?

Arcade Fire got the full-blown hero treatment last Friday night on BBC2's Culture Show, of which I managed to snag a DVD copy over the weekend. The broadcast included two exclusive acoustic performances filmed on March 16 in the lobby of the Brixton Academy, where the band played that evening. In honor of that venue, one of them was a cover of The Clash's "The Guns of Brixton," with little brother Will Butler providing the lead vocal through a megaphone. It's a neat moment, as perhaps the best live band working today pays humble tribute to its counterpart of going on 30 years ago. So I thought I'd share it, along with the original, which also features a lead vocal by a bandmember (Clash bassist Paul Simonon) who rarely got to sing front and center.

Arcade Fire - "The Guns of Brixton" (live in the Brixton Academy lobby, March 16, 2007)

The Clash - "The Guns of Brixton," from London Calling

Classic Bootleg Series Vol. 8: The Smiths - The John Peel Sessions

So, kiddies, before he was the older ringer in Modest Mouse, Johnny Marr was in this other band.

The Smiths will always hold a special place in my heart. One of my most indelible music-related memories is the first time I heard them in early 1985, midway through my junior year of college. A buddy had a cassette of Hatful of Hollow in his car, and from the moment I heard Marr's chiming guitar and Morrissey's distinctive croon on "William, It Was Really Nothing," I was captivated. Literally before that first song had ended, I knew that I was falling under a spell that would stay with me for life. (I only got to see them once, at the Avalon Ballroom in Chicago in '87, just weeks before they broke up.)

The Smiths were also among the favorite bands of legendary British disc jockey John Peel. Peel had them perform live in the studio for his BBC Radio 1 program four times in a little over three years, between May of 1983 and December of 1986. And the performances on these so-called "Peel Sessions" were consistently terrific -- in fact, most everyone (The Smiths included) agrees that the radio versions of early tracks like "This Charming Man" and "Still Ill" are superior to the versions on the band's self-titled debut album (which itself was plagued with problems and recorded from scratch twice).

This boot compiles The Smiths' Peel Sessions in comprehensive fashion and good sound quality, and for those reasons alone, it's essential. The one glaring defect in the collection is that it mixes the tracks from the first two Peel Sessions, in May and September of 1983, rather than presenting them in chronological order. I've left the tracks in this inexplicable order to match up with the artwork, but if you prefer, and with minimal ingenuity, you can reproduce the order of the original broadcasts.

THE SMITHS - THE JOHN PEEL SESSIONS

Artwork:
Front cover
Back cover

01 Back To The Old House
02 Handsome Devil
03 Miserable Lie
04 Reel Around The Fountain
05 Still Ill
06 This Charming Man
07 This Night Has Opened My Eyes
08 What Difference Does It Make?
09 How Soon Is Now?
10 Nowhere Fast
11 Rusholme Ruffians
12 William, It Was Really Nothing
13 Half A Person
14 Is It Really So Strange?
15 London
16 Sweet and Tender Hooligan

The Sound of Dreaming

Working silly hours lately has kept me away from this blog and from sleep as well. I did manage, however, to fall asleep the other night, with ear buds in, listening to the new record by New York's Blonde Redhead. My musical somnolence was induced not by a lack of interest, but by both fatigue and precisely the dreamy quality of this most excellent rock record.

Blonde Redhead comprises Kazu Makino (guitar and vocals) and twin brothers Amedeo (guitar and vocals) and Simone (drums) Pace, who formed in 1993 as acolytes of Sonic Youth. They are a band that I have been aware of for the past few years, but one I failed to dive into until the release of their new record 23. I understand that their earlier records may bear closer witness to the Daydream Nation, but from the sound of 23, this band has evolved into its own.

And a unique sound it is. My first impression was that they remind me in no small measure of one of my favorite esoteric bands of the 80s, Cocteau Twins, albeit (to paraphrase Joe Strummer) with guitars! There similarities are several. Kazu's bright vocals have a delicate, ethereal quality, and in her other-worldly soprano, the lyrics skitter back and forth across the line of intelligibility. This in no way detracts from the music, but rather adds to the mysterious character of the songs. (Remember how much fun you had back in the day trying to figure out what Michael Stipe was singing about?)

The songs really do have a dream-like quality in that the structures are familiar enough and the chord progressions logical enough that nothing sounds bizarre, but the melodies, shimmering instrumentation (see Cocteau Twins), and liberal use of minor chords are just strange enough to keep you slightly off-balance. The overall production is lovingly meticulous, which results in a certain sameness in the sound of the songs, but that sort of seems to be the point. The dreamy mood of the record is consistent throughout, which is satisfying. In many respects, this music is evocative of those strange 80s movie soundtracks by Tangerine Dream.

Ultimately, even though this record is just off-kilter enough that nothing is especially "catchy," I still have had a difficult time switching over to something else on the iPod. It is the essence of a record that reveals itself over repeated listenings, and I for one am looking forward to working my way backwards through their catalog. Check out the title track "23" -- maybe while you're lying down with your eyes closed.

MP3: Blonde Redhead -- "23" from 23

Note: Blonde Redhead will be at the Variety Playhouse in Atlanta on May 4.

There's One For You, Nineteen For Me

MP3: The Beatles - "Taxman"

Any excuse to bust out one of the greatest basslines of all time. Just ask Paul Weller.

Tax Day Bonus: I'll send an MP3 copy of the Alternate Revolver bootleg to the first person who can tell me who played the blistering lead guitar solo on "Taxman" -- answer in the comments and don't forget to provide your e-mail address. If the winning entrant can also tell me the other Beatles track on which the same solo is heard (the mash-up on Love doesn't count), I'll send the Alternate Rubber Soul boot as well.

So, anyone scrambling to get everything filed today?

Would You Eat Them In A Box? Would You Eat Them With a Fox?

Back in early March, we tipped you to a project called Dylan Hears A Who, which wedded the verse of Dr. Seuss to a dead-on imitation of Highway 61-era Bob Dylan, to amazing effect. It was a lovingly realized tribute to both artists, if not a skillful parody with something to say about the similarities between them. Now Salon profiles what happened when the folks at Dr. Seuss Enterprises got wind of things. Let's just say they weren't flattered. The site is now "retired" permanently -- which is an awful shame because it was brilliant in every detail, right down to the album art and liner notes. For those of you who missed out, I can't resist sharing one of the seven tracks.

MP3: Dylan Hears A Who - "Green Eggs And Ham"

Classic Bootleg Series Vol. 7: The Rolling Stones - Happy Birthday Nicky (Australia '73)

About time we checked in with The Rolling Stones, don't you think?

In any debate about the greatest rock and roll tours of all time, the Stones' 1973 trek always seems to be in the mix. Setlists in this period were heavy with songs from Exile On Main Street, arguably the Stones' finest album (even though Goat's Head Soup had been released in the meantime), and with Mick Taylor on second guitar and lighting a fire under Keith Richards every night, they boasted probably their best-ever lineup.

It's also a tour that was heavily bootlegged, which made it tough for me to decide what to post first. The Brussels show in October (which we'll certainly have to return to at some point) is probably the most famous, because it was recorded for an official release that never happened, and sounds pretty amazing. But this boot, of two dates in Australia the previous February, gives Brussels a serious run for its money.

The Perth show on Disc 1 is a soundboard tape and sounds mighty fine, even though Mick Jagger's vocals are up a little too far in the mix. (The boot gets it's name from this show as well -- it was pianist Nicky Hopkins' birthday.) But it's the Sydney show on Disc 2 that's the real treasure. The first track starts with a patch from an inferior audience source, but just be patient -- at about 1:05, the sweet, nicely-balanced soundboard tape kicks in and will thrill you for the duration of the set. (It's a tad trebly, but hey, this was almost 35 years ago.) And just look at the sick setlists for these shows, especially on Disc 2. Only rock and roll, my ass.

THE ROLLING STONES - HAPPY BIRTHDAY NICKY (AUSTRALIA 1973)

Artwork:
Front cover
Back cover
Insert

Disc 1 (February 24, 1973 - Western Australia Cricket Ground, Perth, Australia):
01 Brown Sugar
02 Bitch
03 Rocks Off
04 Gimme Shelter
05 Happy
06 Tumbling Dice
07 Honk Tonk Women
08 All Down The Line
09 Midnight Rambler
10 Happy Birthday Nicky / band intros
11 Little Queenie

Disc 2 (February 26, 1973 -- Royal Randwick Racecourse, Sydney, Australia):
01 Brown Sugar
02 Bitch
03 Rocks Off
04 Gimme Shelter
05 Happy
06 Tumbling Dice
07 Love In Vain
08 Sweet Virginia
09 You Can't Always Get What You Want
10 Honky Tonk Women
11 All Down The Line
12 Midnight Rambler
13 band intros
14 Little Queenie
15 Rip This Joint
16 Jumping Jack Flash
17 Street Fighting Man

Can't Hardly Wait

The demands of life and work have prevented me from posting much again this week. I believe Rich has been in the same boat. Until I can get another classic bootleg up (which I'll do by the end of the weekend), enjoy these tracks from upcoming releases we're looking forward to.

WILCO - "Either Way" from Sky Blue Sky, out on May 15


RUFUS WAINWRIGHT - "Going To A Town" from Release The Stars, out on May 15


JOHN DOE - "The Golden State" (featuring Kathleen Edwards) from A Year In The Wilderness, out on June 12

This Better Be Good

God, I hate it when a band I adore releases a weak record. It literally pains me. But that's what my beloved Fountains of Wayne have just done with their new one, Traffic and Weather.

Since their self-titled debut in 1996, FOW have consistently turned out some of the smartest and most infectious pop music around. Their first three records are absolute gems, bursting with killer melodies, keen character sketches, wry humor, and production and arrangements that frequently pay tribute to the various pop genres, from The Beatles to glam, and from late-70s new wave to the classic Nashville sound. The songwriting duo of Adam Schlesinger and Chris Collingwood, in addition to knowing their way around a great tune, have a particular gift for making the ordinary seem poignant in their lyrics, for making the most mundane moments in life seem weighted with beauty, significance and meaning. Through it all, they haven't made a single misstep.

Until now, that is. Because Traffic and Weather is a train-wreck of a record, and so deeply flawed that I can scarcely believe it was made by the same band I've known and admired for 11 years.

Things start well enough, I suppose, with "Someone To Love," the tale of two lonely homebodies in the big city, set to a driving dance beat. It's not a bad song, but it's also nothing FOW haven't essentially done before, and a lot better. And while sly pop culture references are a common FOW device, usually to add a nuance of telling, funny detail to a character, the references to Coldplay and The King of Queens feel forced and gratuitous here. Unfortunately, things quickly get worse. Much worse. The second track, "92 Subaru" -- the second f*cking track on a Fountains of Wayne record! -- is just unimaginative, cliched and lame. It literally sounds like a clumsy parody of a FOW song, lacking any of the clever wit or charm of their previous work.

And the clunkers keep on coming, including the tedious title track. In fact, with the exception of "Yolanda Hayes" (which has a nifty melody and Revolver-like arrangement, even if the subject -- a guy with a crush on the girl behind the counter at the DMV -- again borders on tired schtick), and "I-95" (which is earnest and romantic, but at the same time flirts with one-too-many lines about the Gun 'N'Roses albums and Barney DVDs on offer at a truck stop), most of the remaining tracks on Traffic and Weather are b-side material, at best, by any prior measure of this band. (2005's 2-disc collection of FOW b-sides and unreleased songs, Out-Of-State Plates, is actually a far more consistent and enjoyable listen than this mess.) And the last 4 cuts are just plain sub-par, with the insipid "Planet of Weed," in particular -- all cheesy wah-wah guitar and hackneyed lines about how pot smokers crave Doritos -- qualifying as an outright embarrassment, the absolute nadir of FOW's output.

If Traffic and Weather delivers even one "goosebump moment," it's on "Michael and Heather At The Baggage Claim" (which we previewed here a few weeks back), a lovely, touching little tune about a young couple struggling to get out of the airport after a long, exhausting journey. It's perhaps the only one of the 14 tracks on this regrettable outing that is entirely worthy of these immensely talented songwriters. (Maybe because it's the only one they deliver straight, and with sincerity, rather than straining to make a cute joke about an office drone wearing Dockers or old people shopping at Costco.)

I just hope and pray that Traffic and Weather is an aberration, and not a sign that something perpetually intelligent and wonderful has finally run its course. Fountains of Wayne has been too good a band, for too long, to bow out on a bum note like this.

MP3: Fountains of Wayne - "Someone To Love" from Traffic and Weather

Woke Up This Morning, Got Myself A Gun

Because I'm just so damned fired up that the greatest TV show of all time is back tonight (but with only 9 episodes to go), I thought I'd share the full version of its now iconic theme song -- one of the most perfect marriages of music-to-series I can think of. (If you can think of a better one, leave it in the comments.)

MP3: Alabama 3 - "Woke Up This Morning" (theme from The Sopranos)

UPDATE: The New York Times' "Screens" blog reports that Alabama 3 didn't get the best of deals from David Chase and co. for the rights to their song.

Odds and Sods

In The New Yorker this week, Sasha Frere-Jones profiles Prince, calling him "perhaps the greatest living performer in the pop tradition."









Meanwhile, Salon looks at whether iTunes' new "premium downloads" are worth the extra 30 cents a pop, while readers weigh in on the uncertain fate of the compact disc.



Some kind, anonymous soul has posted the Arcade Fire's terrific "White Session," recorded on March 9, 2005 at Maison de le Radio in Paris, for download here.




Finally, the first promo pic for The White Stripes' forthcoming Icky Thump was released this week (click the thumbnail at left for the full-size image). Looks like somebody got a BeDazzler for Christmas.

They Filled Our Hearts And Hands With Violence

Drums and Guns, the newest release by Duluth, Minnesota's Low, is a bleak affair. It cracks and wheezes and drones like a post-apocalyptic fever dream with oddly fragile harmonies that conjure Exene and John Doe as zombies. As sonic experimentation, the record is a complete success. This was definitely engineered with the headphones in mind, and there are enough drum loops and electronic effects to garner favorable comparisons to latter-day Radiohead. But if you were expecting Low to progress further into the pool of accessibility that surprised so many their last time out (on The Great Destroyer), you might be disappointed. The songs on Drums and Guns are sparse and depressing, and they come up on you like dark, impressionistic clouds across the horizon, each portending some inarticulable doom. In that sense, the record makes a more than adequate audio companion to Cormac McCarthey's The Road.

TTT poster "Shaun Bateman" referred to the record as "surreal," which is accurate. That tone is set immediately with "Pretty People," on which we learn that all the soldiers, little babies, poets, liars, and "all you pretty people, are all gonna die." Of course, this isn't new information, but it's unsettling that band leader Alan Sparhawk may somehow know when this will all come to pass. "Breaker," which suggests political editorial, sounds like a church choir that missed the rapture and is left behind to ponder that "Our bodies break / and the blood just spills and spills / But here we sit debating math." The slow industrial loop that runs throughout the quiet "Dragonfly" reeks of dread and sounds infinitely more ominous than anything that could ever be expressed by Nine Inch Nails, who are a little cartoonish by comparison. "In Silence," from which the title of this post is taken, is a favorite, perfectly conjuring that post-millenium tension on a cinematic level: "They thought the desert would divide us . . . It's time to put the fields behind us."

I could go on, but I think you probably get the picture. With song titles like "Murderer," "Violent Past," and "Hatchet," you can probably guess that Drums and Guns is not a record you are likely to walk around whistling cheerily, but on a literary sort of level, it's most satisfying. Listening to it is a little like reading a book; it has that feel of a private endeavor. In other words, you're probably not going to throw this on at your next dinner party. "Hatchet," I should mention, actually serves to lighten the overall mood somewhat, with the singer suggesting that he and some unnamed antagonist "bury the hatchet like the Beatles and the Stones." Is Low feuding with Oasis again?

All said, Drums and Guns is probably not for everybody, but if you're in the mood for a slightly nightmarish wasteland, you will find none more interesting than this.

MP3: Low - "Breaker" from Drums and Guns
MP3: Low - "Take Your Time" from Drums and Guns

Want more? Head on over to The Smudge of Ashen Fluff for Low's in-studio performance of four tracks from Drums and Guns on Minnesota Public Radio.

I'm In Love With The Doubt

Let's face it. By and large, radio in America sucks, and if you live here I'm not telling you anything you don't already know. In Atlanta, it's especially bad. You'd think in a city of 5 million people, we could have our own KEXP. But no. The closest thing we have is Georgia State's WRAS ("Album 88"), which can be good, but is usually hit or miss and frustratingly inconsistent.

So anyway, here's something that almost never happens. I heard a song on the radio the other day that blew me away and made me immediately seek out the artist. Last Friday, I left work in the middle of the day and to go see my son's kindergarten class play. On my way to his school, I switched over to WRAS because neither of the two sports talk stations were getting it done. It was excellent timing. What I heard was a beautifully understated song that I first thought might be an old Pernice Brothers tune that I had never heard before. I was struck by the plaintive backing music and how it perfectly suited the longing of the narrative. The music was notable as much for what wasn't being played as for what was. The theme of chorus was the line "It's just these beachcomber, beachcomber blues," and the restraint in the playing was perfectly evocative of a lonely journey along some wintry shore.

Turns out the band is Dolorean, who I'd not heard of before, and the song is "Beachcomber Blues," from the band's fantastic new record You Can't Win. Dolorean, I learned, is from Oregon, and "Beachcomber Blues" sounds like how I might imagine a beach in Oregon to feel. I managed to get my hands on the record this weekend, and the rest of it is just as rewarding. Spacious yet reserved, the record is gorgeous and slow-moving and sad, with gentle brushes on the snare drum, delicate guitar fills, and perfect piano accents here and there. It's vaguely folk/alt.countryish, but actually quite classic-sounding, with an obvious tip of the cap to Neil Young.

I read somewhere that the band, led by singer-songwriter Al James, rehearsed the songs on You Can't Win only a few times before committing them to tape. As a result, there is a certain spontaneity that comes through. The musicians really have to be commended for the beautiful lines that they weave throughout these sad, sparse tales. In some ways, Dolorean remind me of the horribly under-appreciated Bellwether. Here's hoping that being under-appreciated is only temporary for this band. Thank you WRAS for pointing these guys out to me. I owe you one.

MP3: Dolorean - "Beachcomber Blues" from You Can't Win
MP3: Dolorean - "In Love With The Doubt" from You Can't Win
Stream You Can't Win